


the truth and the weight of it all

by MissSugarPlum



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Episode Tag, M/M, Missing Scene, Not beta-read, but here have this instead, i should have been sleeping, i think i should be sorry but i'm not, idk i wrote this in like three hours, overabundance of parentheses, s02e03 family of rogues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSugarPlum/pseuds/MissSugarPlum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Kid, I learned early on that time was my most valuable asset. Although, <i>Flash</i>, one would think you'd have realized the same by now.”</p><p>For a fleeting moment a hint of his old smirk shone through his bleak expression, and Barry couldn’t have stopped his short bark of laughter if he tried, feeling oddly relieved. “I guess the speed and my perpetual tardiness just sort of cancel each other out, and I’ve been running late far longer than I’ve been fast.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the truth and the weight of it all

**Author's Note:**

> It's currently 6:07 AM, and I wrote this instead of sleeping last night.
> 
> Huzzah.
> 
> I imagine that Barry's thought process is a little disjointed, lightning-quick and kind of all over the place, and I did my best to convey that in a cohesive manner in this. If it didn't work, blame the lack of sleep. If it did, well... yay?
> 
> Just a little coda to Family of Rogues, so obviously spoilers if you haven't yet watched it. (Seriously watch it it's so goooooood)
> 
> **(Edit: translated into[Russian](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3808137/9933460) by the amazing and wonderful [Just_Irene](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_Irene/pseuds/Just_Irene), who is really just the most fabulous, thank you so so much!!)**
> 
> (title from All Time Low's A Love Like War)

“Not as much as I… _hate_ you.”

 

Barry watched, as frozen as if ice had pierced his own heart, while Leonard Snart looked on dispassionately as his father wheezed once more, breath shuddering in his lungs, and toppled to the ground.

 

Time seemed to crawl to a standstill around Barry: lightning sprang to his fingertips, behind his eyelids, crackling in the air around him as he processed the scene laid out before his eyes; he could see the remnants of Lewis Snart's final breath against the chill of the ice still expanding from his chest, curling upward in a parody of smoke from a flame; the way Leonard (not Snart, not now, not in the wake of the emotional and physical rollercoaster the last few days had turned into, he couldn’t keep thinking of the man as _Snart_ , not with the terrible knowledge of the atrocious things his father had done, not with Lisa's voice saying _Lenny_ in his head, cracking and fearful and trying so hard to be strong for her brother) – it took _eons_ for Leonard to kneel down by his father's side, fingers still gripping his cold gun and white with tension, lips twisted into a moue of distaste and a complex cocktail of hatred, fear, relief and something that looked like sadness (not _for_ Lewis, Barry thought, but for the action that resulted in the death of someone who was only a cheap imitation of what a father _should_ be but was all Leonard and his sister had _had_ ) whirling in the depths of his eyes; and for one wild moment adrenaline and lightning coursed through Barry's veins as he struggled against the instinctual reaction for flight and fight both, to use his incredible speed to carry his momentum forward, enhance his strength, run _toward_ the danger and face it head-on like he always had – except that there was no danger, not anymore, the villain of this tale lay, frail-looking and wrong and so still, scant feet in front of him, and all that remained was Leonard Snart, staring at the man his father had been and looking both smaller and larger than Barry had ever seen him.

 

He stepped forward, carefully, hesitantly, wary of the gun still clutched in Leonard's strong hands, but the other man didn’t move, gave no indication he was aware of Barry coming closer even though he had always previously seemed to be omnisciently cognizant of Barry's presence. When Barry finally reached him and still Leonard refused to react, he gently took the cold gun from Leonard’s grip, pausing fractionally as hands tightened impossibly, instinctively, on the weapon before relinquishing their grasp completely.

 

“Lisa was safe,” Barry's mouth said before his brain could catch up because no mouth, really, your curiosity does not matter right this second, do not pester the man who _just murdered his father right in front of you_ – but the words had already escaped him and for a tenth of a second he warred with himself before mentally sighing and shrugging, figuring _in for a penny, in for a pound_ and continued more softly, “why did you do that?”

 

And Leonard Snart looked up at him, eyes bright with all the emotion he refused to let tumbling, pouring, galloping out, something in his gaze almost desperate for Barry to understand but defiantly unapologetic for the body sprawled out at his feet. “He broke my sister’s heart. Only fair I break his.” His mouth firmed, lips thinning, the set of his jaw and the evening of his brow over flashing eyes practically daring Barry to speak out against the crime he had just committed.

 

Barry had enough control over his nearly non-existent brain-to-mouth filter that he didn’t press the issue, didn’t argue that though he knew Leonard would do anything for his sister, this went beyond exacting revenge for his beloved sibling, that though he might not agree with how Leonard chose to deal with his father, he was aware enough to realize that any decisions made (stemming from the moment Barry heard Cisco's voice in his ear declaring with overwhelming relief and a reedy note of lingering fear that Lisa was safe from the bomb) were not solely his to make, that Leonard and even (especially) Lisa had more of a right to make any sort of call than Barry could ever claim to have.

 

Barry ground his teeth together and, for once in his life, kept his mouth shut.

 

He stayed silent a few beats longer, and whatever Leonard saw in his face (sympathy? understanding? something maybe like regret?) made him exhale noisily, a sharp, staccato burst of sound through his nose. He rocked his weight back so he was sitting on his haunches, and he cast one last long (almost triumphant but ultimately indecipherable) look at Lewis Snart, crumpled on the floor and so very dead, before propelling himself to his feet.

 

Steely blue-green eyes flicked to Barry's own, much closer now that Leonard had drawn himself up to his full height (and somewhere in the back of his mind, Barry choked down a slightly hysterical snort of laughter upon realizing he had an inch or so on the older man, because who would have thought?), and a corner of Leonard's mouth kicked up in a mirthless smirk. Barry held his gaze as steadily as he was able, quelling the innate compulsion to fidget, to _move_ , suppressing the mad craving he always had to speed his way into finding a solution, the desire racing like liquid electricity through his bloodstream and seeping into every microbe of his being.

 

Of course, Barry could only refrain from movement for so long and Leonard was the epitome of keeping one's cool (and man was it hard to keep from making puns having to do with Leonard’s villain alias, even accidentally) and he sighed gustily, taking a half-step away from Leonard and running a hand down his face and then up and back over the top of his head, pulling down his cowl so he could tug at his hair agitatedly. “You know the police are on their way.”

 

It wasn’t a question but Leonard nodded anyway, not even bothering to look at his watch. “Approximately one hundred fifty seconds away, give or take about thirty seconds for the elevator.” Barry couldn’t help the impressed quirk of his eyebrows; Leonard noticed and snorted gracelessly. “Kid, I learned early on that time was my most valuable asset. Although, _Flash_ , one would think you'd have realized the same by now.”

 

For a fleeting moment a hint of his old smirk shone through his bleak expression, and Barry couldn’t have stopped his short bark of laughter if he tried, feeling oddly relieved. “I guess the speed and my perpetual tardiness just sort of cancel each other out, and I’ve been running late far longer than I’ve been fast.” He sobered quickly, anxious eyes meeting Leonard's again before flitting away to a point on the wall above his shoulder. “So…”

 

Leonard raised one unimpressed eyebrow. “So what, Barry?”

 

“What happens now?” When Leonard’s facial expression didn’t change, Barry pressed, “The police are almost here,” and grimaced at the newly-tensed set to Leonard’s shoulders.

 

“Well. A deal's a deal, kid, so –”

 

“What?” Barry cut in, unable to help himself and not liking the discontented reluctance he could see lurking in Leonard’s cool gaze. “What deal, did you and – and him, did you make some sort of deal with him about Lisa –”

 

Leonard eyed him warily and with no little amount of impatience, frown deepening the lines of his face, making his appearance even more haggard than it already had been. “Not with – no. _Ours_ , kid. I killed someone” – and here his expression turned ugly and the tendons in his neck grew more pronounced, as if he was keeping himself from looking at the man at their feet – “isn’t this about where you'd be 'putting me away'?”

 

Barry blinked in surprise – their arrangement was the furthest thing from his mind. “Well, I – uh, that is…” He trailed off, sighing helplessly once more. “I think this situation's a little more complicated than all that,” he offered weakly, risking a peek at Leonard.

 

His face was completely blank, marble smooth, the only hint of something more vanishing behind a quick blink. “Nothing to it, kid. I broke our agreement. Police will be here in less than two minutes. Not to mention the pile of evidence from the cold gun not only pointing to me stealing the diamonds, but also killing my own father. About as far from a perfect crime as you could manage.”

 

Barry looked at the empty vault around them fruitlessly, upset at the injustice but not wanting to delve into the deeper meaning of why. “I could –”

 

Leonard chuckled without humor. “Save it, Barry. You can’t fix this one with a couple dashes of speed.”

 

Jaw set mulishly, Barry met Leonard’s slightly challenging gaze resolutely. “You weren’t in the wrong here. What your father did was awful, using Lisa against you like that –”

 

“And even after Cisco neutralized the threat, I still made the decision to take him out,” Leonard interrupted, almost gently but with an aggravated hint of steel, and Barry gave up, too on edge now to formulate a proper argument. “It’s a price I'm more than willing to pay. For Lisa.”

 

“And for yourself,” Barry insisted, then immediately but the inside of his cheek to stop anything else coming out that he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to say. Leonard’s gaze was penetrating, brows furrowed low over inscrutable eyes. Faint sounds were starting to echo down the hallway and Barry let out a frustrated puff of air, eyes cutting away from the man still standing too close to him and toward the entrance to the vault, where officers would burst through any second now. He pulled his cowl back over his face, not quite yet sure what he was going to do but bracing himself for action nonetheless.

 

“Barry.”

 

He glanced back at Leonard distractedly, focus completely on the voices and movement he could now clearly hear, and was thus wholly unprepared for the feel of soft lips grazing feather-light against the line of his jaw, pressing for the briefest instant to the corner of his mouth.

 

Barry started, eyes going wide with shock, and time stilled once more as he focused on the face in front of his, eyes still dark but with a faint sheen of wetness making them almost glow, mouth slightly open and twisted into something small and, if it had been on anyone else, almost shy. Barry's breath snagged in his chest and lightning sang through his body, the sensation centering on the point where slightly chapped lips had just touched his own.

 

Leonard blinked, lashes clinging wetly together before slowly separating, and time resumed once more, though Barry felt sure the world had started moving again without him, his brain struggling to catch up, even with speed on his side. He stared a second longer, utterly flabbergasted, which seemed to help Leonard regain a measure of his composure if the familiar smirk was anything to go by.

 

Something in Leonard’s eyes softened minutely and he darted in quickly once more, aligning his lips more fully with Barry's, and Barry had just enough presence of mind to relish the contact, to press back briefly before this kiss ended just as quickly as the first one began.

 

Leonard didn’t move back, with the exception of removing his mouth from Barry's, and the abruptness of it all left him reeling, Leonard's proximity and breath intermingling with Barry's and making his head spin. Leonard smirked again, still muted, but real, and opened his mouth to whisper against Barry's.

 

“Run, Barry.”

 

And Barry ran.

**Author's Note:**

> Come cry to me about these boys on [tumblr](http://that-pumpkinspicewhitegirl.tumblr.com).


End file.
